


moonlight and roses

by wombatpop



Series: Valentine's Day 2021 [2]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gift Giving, M/M, Post-Canon, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28914429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wombatpop/pseuds/wombatpop
Summary: It's Viago and Vladislav's first Valentine's Day as a couple, and everyone has an opinion on it.
Relationships: Viago/Vladislav (What We Do in the Shadows)
Series: Valentine's Day 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120643
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	moonlight and roses

At the end of a quiet Wellington street sits a modest two-storey house. It seems perfectly ordinary from the outside, albeit a bit old fashioned. Neighbours have noted some peculiar goings on. Noise, mostly - a complaint almost as common as it is unfounded. But they might have a point with this particular house. What their neighbours don’t know is that the house is occupied by none other than four vampires. Today, it being the fourteenth of February, the house is celebrating Valentine’s Day.

“Valentine’s Day isn’t usually a tradition in the house.” Viago sits at the vampire’s round, wooden dining table. His hands sit restlessly on the edge of the table, looking for something to fidget with. 

“I don’t think anyone has celebrated it before actually. I have not. I was going to have a Valentine’s Day with Katherine, but I missed it because I was stuck in a box floating around the Southern hemisphere.” Viago presses his lips together, clearly unhappy with recalling his time being involuntarily shipped around for eighteen months.

Deacon has a more pessimistic take on Valentine’s Day, lounging in his favoured armchair.

“Of course, it was around during my time. When I was alive. Everyone would send out little notes to their crushes with pressed flowers and I just never understood it.” Deacon talks with his hands from time to time, raising his eyebrows to add emphasis. 

“I was too busy with my wares, my business.” He continues. “On the grind, I believe Nick says that. On the grind. No time for love notes.”

He looks into space for a moment, seeming to think, before continuing. “I could, as a vampire, do Valentine’s Day. But who would I send love notes to? I have felt no connection for two hundred years.”

He pauses again, eyebrows drooping, eyes unfocused. “No. I am a bachelor, forever.”

Nick has a distinctly modern take on Valentine’s Day.

“It’s just all got so commercial these days, you’ve gotta buy so much crap. It’s expensive.” Nick stands folding his laundry on top of his coffin, consisting mostly of hoodies. His folding, haphazard to begin with, seems to worsen in quality every time he tries to multi-task and talk.

“I had a girl tell me off once for not getting her the right flowers.” He continues. “How was I supposed to know she was allergic to roses? They’re like the number one flower. Nah, I’ll just leave myself out of it.”

Vladislav seems particularly excited for the occasion. 

“I have celebrated many Valentine’s Days - and nights. All of them have been very enjoyable for me. But this one, this one is different to all the others.” Vladislav raises his voice as if he’s making an announcement, his excitement palpable.

“This Valentine’s Day, I am celebrating with Viago. And I have gotten him a wonderful gift. Even better than his birthday when I got him four virgins to eat and made Nick clean up after him. No, this gift is beyond that. He will get a big surprise.”

-

When the evening finally arrives, Deacon and Nick exit the house to hunt and drown their sorrows in the sweet blood of strangers. Viago and Vladislav are more than happy to be left alone, both dressed in their finest for their special night.

“Vlad, you look very handsome tonight. You really dressed up.” Vladislav smiles, smug from the compliment, but tries to play it off as if he’s unaffected.

“I just threw something on, of course. But you look very lovely.”

“Thank you.” Viago would blush, if he could.

“I got you a gift.” Vlad declares, presenting Viago with a wrapped package.

“That’s very nice of you.” Viago tries not to open the package too hastily, be too blatant about how keen he is to see what Vladislav has gotten him. He tears the paper back to find a vinyl record. It hardly takes a second for Viago to recognise the album.

“You remembered?” Viago had mentioned months ago how he used to love this particular jazz artist, long lost to the passages of time, how he wished he had their music to play for himself. He never did get around to tracking it down over the enigmatic interweb.

“I thought you would like it.” Vladislav could have thrown money at an extravagant gift for Viago - in fact, it would have been entirely expected. But he didn’t. He went the thoughtful route, something completely unpredicted.

“We could do some slow dancing to it, later on.” Viago tears his eyes from examining the record to meet Vladislav’s eye.

“But you hate slow dancing.”

Vladislav shrugs. “But you like it.”

Viago lets his gaze fall, hands sliding over the plastic covering of the record, overwhelmed into shyness by Vladislav’s indulgence. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“Did you get me something?” Vladislav asks, and Viago raises from his bewilderment.

“Yes!” Viago reaches behind him and presents Vladislav with his gift. Viago had wholly expected Vladislav to go for the expensive gift route. His own gift is predictably sentimental.

The wrapping paper gives way to a small cardboard box, out of which Vladislav pulls a glass container holding a single rose.

“It’s preserved. It won’t die or rot.” Viago rushes to explain.

“Like us?” Vladislav remarks, and Viago nods, beaming at Vladislav’s immediate understanding of the gift’s intention.

“It is enough?” Viago asks as Vladislav places the rose delicately on the coffee table.

“It’s beautiful, Viago. I love it.” 

Viago glows under Vladislav’s praise. By all accounts it has been a successful exchange of gifts, but the presents are soon forgotten as the rest of the evening’s itinerary moves forward. 

When Nick and Deacon eventually return from their respective evenings, the living room is abandoned, Vladislav and Viago having retired early to Vladislav’s bedroom. All that remains is an inordinately messy living room, and a single, poetic beam of moonlight landing upon the preserved rose. Or perhaps it’s a broken streetlight. Either way, Deacon thinks it’s disgusting.


End file.
